


thrust out from the changing shores of shadow

by blackkat



Series: Bleach Drabbles [6]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bazz to the Rescue, First Meetings, Humor, M/M, Pre-Canon, hollows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 01:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16630070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Playing at being human is an adjustment, but not as much of one as Bazz was expecting, honestly. He gets a job, an apartment, a steady routine. A couple of people look at him askance at first, but that’s more or less familiar anyway and Bazz doesn’t give a damn. The human world is so open, so absent of the rules and structure of being a Sternritter, and Bazz will admit he spends most of the first few months glorying in it.And then an angry ghost almost takes his head off.





	thrust out from the changing shores of shadow

Bazz is guiltily, desperately glad to be so far away from Silbern.

He drags a hand over his loose hair, slumping down in his seat on the riverbank, and breathes out, feeling it shake just a little. Two months of observing the human world under the cover of training, planning his escape, building a fake life to pass as human, and now—

Freedom.

It’s unsettling, strange. Yhwach isn't dead, and Jugram is still a bastard who betrayed him, but Bazz has washed his hands of both of them, made a change. He could have stayed there forever, chasing his revenge, but this feels…

Good. Free. Open, like the future is endless, and Bazz laughs to himself, leans back, tips his face up to the sky. Maybe it’s cowardly to give up on vengeance, to flee the palace, but he _doesn’t fucking care_.

He’s in the human world now. He has nothing holding him back, nothing binding him. every oath he’s ever made has been forsaken, and he feels so damn good about it he could fucking _fly._

Pushing to his feet, Bazz casts one last look at the burned grass where the portal stood, offers a one-finger salute to Yhwach and Jugram and every last Quincy in the Wandenreich, and walks up the bank towards the town.

 

 

Playing at being human is an adjustment, but not as much of one as Bazz was expecting, honestly. He gets a job, an apartment, a steady routine. A couple of people look at him askance at first, but that’s more or less familiar anyway and Bazz doesn’t give a damn. The human world is so _open_ , so absent of the rules and structure of being a Sternritter, and Bazz will admit he spends most of the first few months glorying in it.

Karakura has enough ambient spiritual pressure to cover most his own, and he’s got a bracelet nicked from the science department that finishes the job, so there's little risk of discovery. There are some ghosts, a few Hollows, but there's also a Shinigami stationed nearby to take care of both, and Bazz takes some satisfaction in ignoring every trace of reiatsu he happens to come across. This is being human, and this is having a life, and for the first time in a thousand years Bazz actually feels like he’s getting somewhere instead of just spinning in place. Maybe that somewhere is boring, but it’s _Bazz's_ , and that’s the only thing that matters.

And then an angry ghost almost takes his head off.

Bazz, formerly in the middle of his lunch break, only just contains a yelp, jerks his head down, and feels a bolt of _something_ impact the building he was previously sprawled against. Stone cracks, and Bazz curses, rolls out of the line of fire and scrambles to his feet, leaving his onigiri spattered over the sidewalk. He’s half-expecting a Sternritter to be standing behind him, out of his head, or one of the Quincy that apparently still live in the World of the Living, even though he’s seen no sign of them. Expecting danger, or at least a _threat_ , and—

“You _idiot_!” a young woman screeches, several decibels higher than even Giselle usually manages. “You _moron_! You _imbecile_! You—you _nincompoop_!”

Bazz blinks, feeling even more caught off guard than he did a few moments ago. There's a man on the sidewalk, dark hair and bright shirt, heading away, but floating around his shoulders, swooping at him like a magpie with a vendetta, is the figure of a young businesswoman. She’s still in a pantsuit, her hair done up, but she’s also about five feet off the ground, so it’s pretty clear she’s not alive anymore. Raising a brow, Bazz watches her shriek and snatch angrily at the retreating man’s head, pulled along with him as he walks, and…well. He doesn’t remember a hell of a lot about humans dying, but ghosts with an obsession become Hollows. Tethered by their own chains, corrupted by the world. Quincy destroy the Hollows that form, remove the soul that fell to corruption from existence.

The knowledge of her presence itches at Bazz's skin, makes him twitch to call his crossbow. But he stays where he is, breathing carefully as he watches the pair disappear around the corner, and then slumps back, casting a glance up at where the thing impacted. There's a dent in the brickwork, and he scowls, wondering how long that ghost has been wandering around to have that much power. There _is_ a Shinigami somewhere around here who’s supposed to deal with this kind of thing. Well, technically. Bazz hasn’t seen him in the last few days. Maybe a week or so.

It’s very much not his problem, though. Bazz mutters a curse at himself and slumps back, sliding down the wall to sit, and glares at the ruined remains of his lunch. Fuck. He’s _hungry_ , and he has more deliveries to make soon. There's no time to buy more food.

“Thanks a lot,” he mutters at the loud ghost, and groans as he drags his bag over, digging through it in the vain hope that he has a candy bar hidden away somewhere.

 

 

Running into the guy and his attached ghost again is more than a little surprising, seeing as it’s been over two weeks since Bazz saw them the first time. He’d have thought that the Shinigami would have definitely taken care of the noisy ghost by now, but she’s still circling the man and screeching. With a frown, Bazz leans forward on the handles of his bike, watching as the man waits for the crossing light on the other side of the road. He’s middle-aged, scruffy, and he looks tired even though it’s midmorning. There's a spreading bruise across one cheek, and Bazz remembers enough about Hollows to know that they tend to bring bad luck to their victims first. Maybe the woman’s headed downhill fast, though she still looks mostly human to Bazz's eyes.

She still hasn’t been sent on by that Shinigami. Bazz hasn’t even _seen_ that Shinigami, actually, and it’s been a while. He hesitates, tapping his fingers against the handlebars, and—he shouldn’t get involved. While he’s in Karakura he’s _human_ , or might as well be. Turning some Shinigami on to his presence is the worst possible thing that could happen, next to Yhwach hunting him down, and Bazz needs to keep a low profile, keep his nose out of things, keep moving.

He _should_ , but when the light changes Bazz takes a right turn even though his delivery is to the left, and follows the man down the street.

The ghost glances at him once, but doesn’t otherwise pause as she swoops around the man, punching at him and flailing her arms. “Helloooooo! Idiot! Stop this! You're such an asshole, stop _ignoring_ me!”

Shades of Bambietta, and Bazz winces. He spent some time in Bambietta’s personal torture chamber when he was a new Sternritter, only just escaped her killing him, and he loathes her with every fiber of his being. This ghost sounding like this is a great argument for dusting her, honestly, and Bazz has to contain the twitch of his hand reaching for his crossbow. Instead, he focuses on the man, the drag of his feet, the faint unsteadiness of his steps. Tired in a way that's not natural, not unless he was on a bender all night, Bazz thinks critically, and slows enough to keep behind him, pretending to fuss with a tie on his sleeve. The man’s turning, heading towards a small clinic set back from the street, and Bazz thinks for a moment that he must feel _really_ bad—

But there are keys in his hand, and he unlocks the main door and pushes in, taking the ghost woman with him. lights come on, and through the glass doors Bazz can see a young girl, tiny and pigtailed, come running. She throws her arms around the man, and in an instant it’s like he was never stumbling, never tired; he lights up, laughs, picks her right up off her feet and spins her around. She giggles, throws her arms around his neck, and he heaves her up, carries her through another door and out of sight.

Slowly, carefully, Bazz puts a foot down on the ground and comes to a stop. There's a sharp ache in his chest, something he’s mostly forgotten about over the centuries rising sharply, unexpectedly. Silbern had no families, just soldiers alone, and…he hasn’t actually seen a parent and a child interacting in a very long time.

It makes him think of his own family, so long ago. Makes his breath tangle in his throat, to the point where he has to rub his chest to ease the knotted feeling. They're out of sight but he still can't tear his eyes away, can't breathe.

Fuck. _Fuck_. Bazz wasn’t going to get involved, just wanted to _look_ , because like hell he’s going to risk showing himself to anyone, but that little girl—her father—

“Damn it,” Bazz hisses at himself, scrubbing a hand over his face. He turns his bike around, kicks off hard enough that he wobbles for a moment before he gets the rhythm, and heads back towards his delivery as fast as he’s physically able. It won't take that much longer; he’ll ditch his bike at home, come back on foot so he’s a little more subtle, and just…keep an eye on things. If he hides himself well enough, all he’ll need is one clear shot to take out the ghost before she can do any more damage. Bazz isn't Lille, isn't a sharpshooter, but he’s more than good enough for something like this.

 

 

The man doesn’t have one kid. He has _three_ , twin girls who can't be more than seven and an orange-haired boy who’s probably eleven. Bazz only catches a portion of the chaos that’s apparently a family dinner with these four—he’s camped out on the roof, watching for any signs of disturbance—but it sounds…lively. Like a family. It hurts to hear, but at the same time he can't bring himself to mind it, since it’s bringing back all the memories of his own family. All the _good_ ones, not just them burning alive at Yhwach’s hands. Not just the way Bazz felt in the wake of Jugram’s betrayal, like he’d never avenge them. Leaning back on his hands, he tips his head towards the darkened sky, half his attention on listening for any Hollow calls, half on the laughter and shouts from below.

With a shimmer of pale light, the ghost woman sails up over the edge of the building, looking morose and irritated. Bazz carefully doesn’t tense, though he watches her out of the corner of his eye as she circles him.

“You look like _trouble_ ,” she tells him. “What the hell are you doing staking out their house, you creep? Are you a thief? Am I going to have to worry about calling the cops somehow, too? On top of all the rest of this bullshit?”

Bazz blinks, utterly confused. That…doesn’t sound like she’s got it out for the man. That sounds like the _opposite_ , actually. And she doesn’t _look_ like a Hollow.

“What?” he asks, sitting up sharply and turning to face her. “What the hell do you mean, bullshit for _you_ to worry about? Aren’t _you_ the one targeting this guy?”

The ghost almost falls out of the air. “ _WHAT_ ,” she screeches, so loudly Bazz winces. “You can _see me_? Where the hell have you been, you asshole? I needed you _weeks_ ago!”

Bazz splutters. “This isn't even my _job_ , bitch!” he snaps. “I'm only here ‘cause that idiot in there looks like shit and—”

“I _know that_! What do you think I've been worrying about since I died? He’s getting _attacked_ and he can't even see the thing that’s doing it!”

A chill slides down Bazz's spine. “There really is a Hollow after him,” he says. “You’ve seen it?”

The woman nods, looking relieved. “Big, ugly, lots of teeth? She’s been following him off and on since we died. There was a car accident, and she hit me, and the doctor tried to save us but he couldn’t. And then the driver ended up as a ghost, went _even more_ _psycho_ , and turned into some monster from a horror flick.”

Anger that the doctor couldn’t save her? That would be more than enough to tie someone to the World of the Living. Bazz scowls, opens his mouth—

The door below them slams, and Bazz and the ghost both lean over automatically. The doctor is heading towards the street, pulling his coat on as he whistles, and Bazz curses. He scrambles up, vaults over the edge of the roof to land behind a screen of bushes.

“What can you even _do_?” the ghost demands, swooping down after him. “She’s a monster, and she’s twelve feet tall. You look like a punk, but no matter how many stupid bolts you put in your ears, I don’t think she’s going to be intimidated.”

“Fuck off,” Bazz mutters, pushing out of the bushes and keeping low as he follows the doctor. Probably headed to the convenience store three blocks down, but there's a good distance between here and there, and all of it is dark streets and too many chances for something to jump the guy.

“I'm not going to _fuck off_ , that man has been beating himself up over not being able to save me for more than a month now, and that psycho who killed me is trying to kill him too!”

Bazz growls. “I'm _working on it,_ lady, what the hell do you want from me? I can't kill a Hollow if it’s not _here._ ”

“Work _faster_ ,” the pissy ghost retorts, and sails ahead of him to circle the doctor again, shouting in his ear like that’s going to do anything at all. Bazz groans to himself, but quickens his pace. If he _tells_ the doctor what’s about to happen, the man’s going to think he’s crazy, but maybe that will be enough to get him to turn around and go home.

“Hey!” he calls loudly. “Hey, asshole! With the goat beard!”

There's no startle, no jump. The man just turns, quick, balanced, and his eyes immediately go to Bazz. “I hope you're not insulting my manly whiskers,” he says cheerfully, stroking his chin. “They’re—”

Bazz feels the flicker of reiatsu half an instant before the massive white shape rises from an alley. “Get down!” he shouts, and the man’s eyes widen. He lunges to the side without so much as a hesitation, and in a blaze of blue Bazz's crossbow forms in his hand. He levels it at the Hollow, takes the shot—

Misses as the spirit lurches forward, deceptively fast. It blurs with its own speed, uneven limbs carrying it across the road before Bazz can take another. With a snarled curse, he dives into a roll, comes to his feet in front of the doctor, and whips his bow at the hand coming to grab the man. Blood spatters, the Hollow roars, and as it snatches at him Bazz levels his bow at its face.

“Dodge this,” he spits, and pulls the trigger. The arrow leaps free of the string in a blaze of blue, blinding-bright, and catches the Hollow square in the face. It hangs in the air for a long moment, and just when Bazz is starting to sweat, it crumbles away like dust on the wind.

There's a long, breathless moment of silence, and then a laugh, wild and disbelieving. The ghost woman sweeps down, landing lightly in front of Bazz, and gives him a smile that’s full to bursting with relief. “You really did take care of it!” she says.

“You don’t need to sound so surprised,” Bazz complains, but he lets his bow fade, drops his arm. Looks at her, hesitating, because—well. One thing to permanently destroy a soul that’s turned into a Hollow and threatened a family, but another entirely to do the same to a woman whose unfinished business was trying to save the doctor who couldn’t save her. “Are you…”

Her smile gentles a little, and she brushes a lock of hair back behind her ear. “I think I know where to go next,” she says, and turns, looking at the man just pulling himself off the street. “Would you—would you say thank you for me? He tried so hard to save me.”

Damn it. Bazz _can't_ destroy her, Quincy principles or no. “Yeah,” he agrees gruffly, and turns. the doctor is bleeding a little, looks like he scraped his face against the pavement, and Bazz frowns, offering him a hand. “You okay?” he asks.

“All in one piece,” the man says, with surprising equanimity, and takes Bazz's hand to pull himself to his feet. “You’re—”

“You tried to save a woman a few weeks ago,” Bazz interrupts, and tips his head at where she’s standing. “Car accident, another woman hit her. She’s been looking out for you. Wanted me to say thanks for trying to save her.”

The doctor freezes, expression twisting for half a second before he eases. “Yagiri Ami,” he says, and his eyes slide over the space where the ghost is without registering her presence. “And—her sister, Nami. The one who killed her.”

The woman definitely left _that_ out. Bazz gives her a look, and she winces, but bows determinedly. “You never stopped trying to save us,” she says. “Thank you, Doctor!”

“She’s grateful,” Bazz translates, and the doctor stares at the empty air over Ami’s left shoulder for a long, painful moment, then offers her a bow of his own.

“Thank you for saving me,” he says. “Even when I couldn’t save you.”

The woman smiles, small and sweet, and looks away. Her eyes go distant, and then her form follows, and with a shimmer of light she fades away entirely.

“She’s gone,” Bazz reports, though he’s a little annoyed at having to play announcer. Still, what the woman was doing especially after a betrayal like that—well. Bazz can weather a little irritation, he supposes.

There's another pause, a little longer, and then the doctor sighs out a heavy breath, rubs a hand over his dark hair. He turns to face Bazz, giving him a smile that’s a bit crooked, and says easily, deliberately, “That’s the second time a Quincy has come out of nowhere to save my life.”

Bazz blinks in surprise, takes a half step back. “You know about Quincies?” he asks in surprise. “But—you can't sense reiatsu, or you're a fucking _moron_ who didn’t notice the ghost shouting in his ear—”

The man laughs. “I don’t need reiatsu to see a Quincy, though,” he says cheerfully, and grins at Bazz. “You're not quite as pretty as Misaki, though.”

More than once over the course of the night, Bazz had the displeasure of hearing this idiot sob to his wife’s picture about how their children didn’t appreciate him, so he’s willing to assume she’s not among the living anymore. “No one’s ever been dumb enough to call me pretty,” Bazz retorts, and gives the man a glare. “If you know about Hollows and shit, why the hell are you wandering around after a month of bad luck? You had to fucking know it was after you.”

“Well,” the man says cheerfully, “I really, really had a craving for this one particular kind of ice cream—”

Realization strikes. “Bullshit,” Bazz says, and if it’s a little rough, that’s _fine_. “You _did_ know it was after you. You just didn’t want your kids caught in the crossfire.”

The doctor chuckles, tucking his hands in the pockets of his coat. “You're a smart one,” he says, admiring, and there's a look in his eyes that Bazz can't quite read. “I'm Kurosaki Isshin.”

“Bazz,” Bazz says suspiciously. “What? What the hell is with that look?”

Isshin laughs. “Nothing, nothing!” he says brightly. “I'm starting to think I have a thing for being saved by brave Quincies, that’s all.”

It takes Bazz a second to process the words, and he blinks, frowns at Isshin. “Did you hit your head?” he demands. “How much blood are you losing there?”

Surprised, Isshin reaches up, touches his cheek. When he sees the blood on his fingers, he laughs sheepishly. “I didn’t even notice! Well, I guess I can't get ice cream like this—people might get frightened.”

Bazz stares at him for a long moment, thinking of him walking out of the house knowing something was after him, something he couldn’t see or kill. Thinks of the twin girls and their older brother and their warm home, and takes a careful breath.

“Come on,” he says gruffly. “I’ll go in and buy it for you. Just tell me what you want.”

Isshin stares at him, then laughs. He lunges, unexpected, and wraps Bazz up in a tight hug, practically hauling him right off his feet. Bazz squawks, startled, but Isshin’s too strong, won't be budged as he hugs Bazz tight. Then, all at once, he lets Bazz go, then loops an arm around his shoulders and hauls him against his side.

“I've got a better idea,” he says cheerfully. “How about we buy a whole bunch and bring it home? I’ll introduce you to my sweet, beautiful children, and you can join us for dessert!”

Bazz should say no. Bazz should _absolutely_ say no. But Isshin’s expression is open, and his arm is warm around Bazz's shoulders, and it’s ever so slightly possible that Bazz's heartbeat has picked up its pace in his chest.

“Okay,” he says hoarsely, before he can stop himself, and Isshin makes a happy sound and pulls him on.

“Perfect!” he says brightly. “You’ll adore Yuzu, she’s an angel, and Karin is perfect and wonderful and I have a strong, handsome son as well! And thanks to you I'm going back to them! I think that deserves ice cream at the very least.”

“I take it back,” Bazz says crossly, half-strangled as he’s pulled along. “Get off me, asshole, I'm—”

“My hero,” Isshin declares blithely, and Bazz decides he’s going to dump him in the first river they pass without hesitation.

…He might make sure it’s a shallow one, though. Just because it would be a shame to wreck Isshin’s face any further.


End file.
